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[open] i don't blame you, dear, any - Printable Version

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i don't blame you, dear, any - lilian - 06-13-2019



l i l i a n
i've never cared for anyone so much
i was born with a bomb inside my gut



She could smile, but surely it would make her teeth ache. 
So, she stands at the edge of the field and makes no effort to appear approachable.
Because she wants to be able to say that she made an effort, even if nothing came of it. Though, in fairness, she has no one to answer to but herself.

But she has lived so long without a home, slinking through the shadows as if she might find something of value there. She has been alone so long that she does not know how to unfasten her jaw and speak. 
Not that she has anything worth saying. Certainly nothing worth hearing.

She sulks now in the midday sun, eyes half-closed. She’ll stay an hour or two, she thinks, revel in the way the heat of the sun sinks through her skin and unravels the knots of tension in her muscles. Then she’ll move along, find some other place to hide. 

She does not trust herself in company. Does not trust herself to know how to behave. Does not trust herself to fall into line. She has lived so long without direction that she does not know now how she might respond to authority. It is not that she is independent or free-spirited, it is simply that she has been a solitary creature her whole life. 

She does not eat, does not watch, does not smile. Just lazily swishes her tail to chase away the flies and exhales a deep, world-weary sigh. She waits and she does not know now whether she is the predator or the prey.


RE: i don't blame you, dear, any - Noah - 06-13-2019

that's all there is

Her world has been shaken again. It’s not the full earthquake that had nearly destroyed her the first time, when Carnage and the plague had taken her father and everything she’d ever known away from her, but something more akin to the aftershock tremors that follow such an event. There’d been such violence between Loess and Tephra, such anger, but that in and of itself had not been the worst of it.

The worst was that She had few friends in this world, and they had arrayed themselves on opposite sides of the event. That has caused her to shy away from all of them, like the hare away from the hawks overhead. Perhaps she was foolish to stray from her Pampas, where peace still lies heavy over the fields and flowers. But now that she has tasted what it means to be not alone, the sheer loneliness of her mostly empty home eats at her.

Even so, when she alights at the edge of the field she almost turns around to go home. This is not a place for her – there are so many of them, moving in the complicated patterns that such social creatures do – patterns that Noah, for all her sweet nature, had never learned to dance at the feet of her complicated and unsocial sire. Unable to force herself into the din below, she circles the edges of the Field until a solitary mare catches her eye.

The little mare offers a quick smile, gentle eyes, as she edges closer. “Hello,” she murmurs, “I’m Noah.”

noah



RE: i don't blame you, dear, any - Aodhan - 06-14-2019


Aodhán
little fire
All that is gold does not glitter; not all who wander are lost
Power; the kind Noah holds over others, the kind the young stallion holds over himself - all that is pretty meaningless considered to the power of knowledge. Where to go, when to arrive, who to greet. How to even use his powers. The Field is an easy place for those searching for a home, for those searching to meet new people and find a match. But that still doesn’t make it easy to know where to go.

That is his main reason for being here; yet the small white ice-spewing lizard (his best imitation of a tiny ice dragon, since he had dreamt of memories of his parents last night) knows he’s going to have a hard time meeting anyone in his current form. The thought of focusing on a tree is even less appealing - willows may bend and perhaps he could even work in a face to talk with, but he wouldn’t be able to move - and so, after hurrying along the grass for a while, he quickly decides on approaching the mare.

Two mares, he should say, because as soon as he arrives he notices that she has already been approached. Not to worry, he can make two friends! Plus, he might be able to actually construct something of himself that is not a clone-copy of someone else.

”Excuse me,” the white miniature dragon’s voice comes from the lower ground. ”I know this is an odd request but… may I touch you? One or both?” He bites his tongue so as not to smell them in the typical lizard- (or snake-)like way, his emerald green eyes eyeing them innocently and overly large (a subconscious change so small he hadn’t even noticed it before it was done) from the grass. ”Just a leg is fine.” he adds then, not sure if they would have thought he had an obscene request, otherwise.


RE: i don't blame you, dear, any - lilian - 06-14-2019



l i l i a n
i've never cared for anyone so much
i was born with a bomb inside my gut



She sees her, of course, but does not think to regard her. It does not occur to her that the mare’s trajectory will land her within earshot. It does not occur to her to think that she herself is what has so fully arrested this mare’s attention. So she closes her eyes and exhales a shuddering sigh that hitches and catches.

She does not mean to react. Does not mean to fling back her head at the sound of the mare’s voice. Does not mean to swing her gaze around, wild-eyed. It is an overreaction, to be sure, but there is nothing theatrical about it. The breath she drags in to steady herself is subtle – not a gasp.

Her muscles twitch and her heart slams out a staccato rhythm, beating itself against its ribbed cage as she focuses her attention on that little mare who’s offering her name and a smile that Lilian neither deserves nor has any use for. She does not smile back, merely blinks.

“I’m Lilian,” she says in that unremarkable way she does before her attention is quite suddenly arrested by something else entirely. Another voice, though a cursory glance at the space unfolding outward around them provides no obvious source. It is then that she glances down, catches sight of the lizard and skitters backward.

She has seen many things in her travels but nothing quite like this. The lizard speaks again and she blinks once, casts a suspicious glance in Noah’s direction, curses the way her skin ripples as her muscles tremble. How queer, she thinks, studying the lizard from a safe distance. “Okay,” she says after a long, tense moment. She speaks through teeth gritted in fear.

The muscles pull even tenser as she forces herself to stay stock still despite the fear swimming quick through the network of her veins.